


The Republican Candidate

by NotAnselAdams



Category: None - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Journalism, California, Democrat, Elections, Other, Politics, Racism, Republican
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-11-17
Updated: 2003-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28724004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotAnselAdams/pseuds/NotAnselAdams
Summary: A Latino investigative journalist for the Los Angeles Times tracks the nascent rise of a well-known Hollywood celebrity who announces her run for governor of the state of California.  The neophyte action heroine has no political experience, no known training nor experience that would qualify her for the job, and a closet of dark secrets that emerge as the reporter begins to find himself in the swamp with people who wish to bring her down.  Politics makes for strange bedfellows.  Ethics may go by the wayside.
Kudos: 1





	The Republican Candidate

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this story in 2003, well before the existence of the retrumplican brand, but I already knew white supremacists lay at the heart of the "grand old party." I also knew polling was going to be a thing -- for good or for evil, well-done or incompetent -- and that factored in as well. I hope someone enjoys.

# “The Republican Candidate”

## 

## Thursday, March 9

##  **Page A20**

##  **Gubernatorial Frontrunner Tapped by White House**

#### By Steven Sandoval

 _Sacramento_ – In a surprise move, Congresswoman Brianne Ingraham (R-Devore) has accepted a White House offer to head the Environmental Protection Agency, leaving a crowded Republican gubernatorial primary in which she had been the frontrunner. It is unclear what effect the congresswoman’s departure will have on the race, but is considered a boon for State Senator Don McGinty (R-Irvine), who was running a distant second...

##  **Monday, March 13, 12:45 p.m.  
Three months before June California Gubernatorial Primaries**

I stood up respectfully as Marla Golden arrived at the table for two I had reserved at the Plum Tree Inn in downtown Los Angeles. As usual, the room was filled with luminaries from city and county government. A couple of tables away from ours the most liberal of our county supervisors and the most right-wing one sat quietly commiserating, no doubt striking a most unholy bargain. At another table the head of County Department of Public Social Services was getting very friendly with a woman who was most definitely not his wife. I scribbled a reminder to myself on my notepad to file that factoid away for future reference, then slipped it into my blazer pocket and smiled at Marla. I took my seat after she had taken hers.

“Miss Golden, it is always a delight and a pleasure. Do you have those latest poll numbers for me?”

“Mr. Sandoval, you remain ever the charmer.” Marla said this with her usual breezy Southern drawl as she pulled out a box of cigarettes and laid it on the table. The waiters glanced nervously at her Virginia Slims, but didn’t say anything until she pulled one of the cigarettes from the box, held it between her index and middle fingers, and put it to her lips. With the other hand she retrieved a bound report from her briefcase and handed it across the table to me. I opened it up and began to peruse the data as a young waiter came to our table.

“Excuse me, but there’s no smoking in this establishment,” he said cautiously, keeping his voice low. 

“There’s an ordinance against it.”

“Do you see any smoke coming out of my cigarette, sir?” The waiter shook his head. “Then unless there’s an ordinance against holding an unlit cigarette in my mouth, please go away and refrain from bothering me further. You and your clean air Nazis may have gotten your precious no-smoking bill passed, but I’ll be damned if you’re gonna deprive me of a cigarette!” The waiter excused himself and left abruptly. 

I gave her a disapproving look. “I really don’t understand your obsession with so-called smoker’s rights. You have the right to send yourself to an early grave, but not one to take me along with you.”

“Oh, hush up. Secondhand smoke is such an urban legend. I’m surprised at you, bigshot reporter goin’ around believing such unproven hype.” Marla brought the unlit cigarette to her lips, taking a long drag. She blew the imaginary smoke out, making sure to aim it away from anyone. She indicated the report I was looking at. “Nothing terribly unusual in these poll numbers. We all knew McGinty would benefit from Ingraham’s departure from the race.”

Marla Golden was the assistant director of polling and research at the Times, where we both worked. She’d been doing the job for almost eleven years now. Over the years I’d known her, she’d grown a little plumper, her brown hair had faded, and her tinted, round glasses had grown ever darker. But she still did not look her forty-two years of age, and she’d cut down her cigarette allotment from one pack a day to just eight cigarettes. She remained one of the most interesting people I’d ever met, and very good at her job. Anyone with a local or statewide politics beat (like me) needed to have a good working relationship with the people in charge of polling data. Since the director of polling was a strange man who refused to give interviews to anyone, including reporters on his own paper, I dealt with Marla. 

“McGinty’s got a six point spread over the other Republicans,” I said aloud as I read the report.

She made a disapproving noise. “A shame. Ingraham was far more electable, and Dawson’s race wouldn’t hurt things for the GOP’s public face. Don McGinty doesn’t stand a chance against a moderate-liberal Democrat candidate. He’s anti-abortion, anti-gay, and the idea he seems most proud of so far is getting rid of half of University of California system.”

“Yes, as I recall, his thinking was something along the lines of … ‘No student really wants to go to UC Riverside, Davis, or Santa Cruz if they can help it, and Santa Barbara is just a party school.’ ”

Marla shook her head. “And the GOP can’t figure out why we keep losing races around here.” 

I skimmed the list. State Senator McGinty led with 38% of likely Republican primary voters, followed by LeeAnn Rice, scourge of feminists everywhere, at 14%. The only non-white among the top contenders, Jerome Dawson, was at 12%. I frowned at the fourth name – it wasn’t one I’d run across unless it was on a movie marquee. “Arnette Narr?”

“You know, Steven, the actress. There’s a whole world out there beyond politics, ya know. She does those female action hero roles. She’s only running seven percent. Entered the race two weeks ago.”

“Two weeks, and already at seven percent? Not bad.”

Marla shrugged. “Mostly voters defecting from Ingraham, I’d wager. I don’t expect much out of her. Meanwhile, Democratic primary is sewn up already. Driscoll is polling at about fifty-five percent.”

I held up the report. “Can I keep this? I’ll start working on my story later today.”

“It’s all yours, buttercup.”

## Sunday, March 26

##  **Page F1**

##  **Actress Wants to ‘Kick Some Butt’ in Sacramento**

#### By Lydia Sangiacomo

 _Los Angeles_ – An actor running for government? It's happened before, and it has even worked well in the past. But it was still a surprise to fans and politicians alike when action movie heroine Arnette Narr threw her hat into the ring. Narr, 42, and star of the recent box-office buster "Kickin' Butt and Takin' Names", is currently working on a sequel to that popular film. She took some time out from her busy shooting schedule to explain what prompted her, at the height of her career, to run for government. "Really, it was because I am so concerned about how this state is going downhill lately," Narr said during an interview. "I think the politicians need to stop their politics as usual, and I'm just the woman to go to Sacramento and kick some butt!" Narr has no experience in politics, though she was one class vice-president in high school ...

##  ** Tuesday, April 11, 8:04 a.m. **

The phone on my desk rang as I sat down with my bear claw and a cup of hot chocolate. The Caller ID window listed it as PUBLIC, but I was in a generous mood and picked it up anyway. “Sandoval.”

The voice on the other end asked, _“You’re the political reporter from the Times, right?”_

I frowned, scratching my chin. “I’m one of them. Who’s this?”

_“I’d prefer not to divulge that right now, until I know you’ll take me seriously. I have important information on one of the leading candidates in the Republican primary that you might find interesting.”_

I sat forward and pulled out my handy personal notepad and opened it to a new page, getting ready. The voice was definitely male, but I couldn’t place it in terms of age or ethnicity. Best to keep him talking. “All right, Mr. X. You’ve got some information on Senator McGinty?”

_“Who? No … I’m calling about Arnette Narr. You know, the movie star.”_

I raised an eyebrow, caught off-guard by this mysterious man’s statement. I looked over at my mail tray, which had a newly printed report sitting in it, delivered sometime early last night by Marla’s assistant Bobby Dean. I pulled the report out and opened it, concerned for a moment that the entire universe had flipped upside down and Narr had suddenly gained forty percentage points in just three weeks. I browsed the front page quickly. McGinty, 42%. Rice, 18%. Narr, 16%. Dawson, 12%. Other candidates and undecided, 10%.

“I would hardly call Miss Narr a leading candidate, Mr. X. She’s well behind McGinty.”

_“Then you aren’t interested in what I have to say?”_

I went through my calendar. I had a midnight redeye to Sacramento to cover McGinty’s latest stump across the state, and before that three meetings, including two stories about local politics, and an interview piece on the City Council President. I didn’t have time for this. I flipped ahead a few days in my calendar. “I’m going out of town, but I’ve got some time the twenty-fifth, if you’d like to talk then?”

_“You shouldn’t underestimate her. She’s evil. She’ll win that primary. You have to stop her.”_

“Look, buddy, even if it were possible for her to win, it’s not my job to take out gubernatorial candidates just because some people don’t like them. I’m not a literary assassin for hire. There are ethics involved.”

The voice laughed once, harshly. _"Ethics in journalism? Since when?"_

I hung up the phone. “Asshole.” The nerve! Insulting my integrity, wasting my time about some Hollywood starlet turned neophyte politico, and keeping me away from my bear claw! 

The phone rang again. I sat and enjoyed my bear claw, muting the ringer. As I pushed the last delicious morsel of apple and glazed doughy goodness into my mouth, someone smacked me on the shoulder. I swiveled in my chair to see Marla Golden standing there. “Why aren’t you answering your phone?”

“Hey, Marla. I didn’t know it was you. Some jerk called me from an outside line, gave me grief, I decided to enjoy my donut in piece. Give a guy a break, all right?” 

Marla pointed at the polling data compilation report on my desk. “Wondered what you thought about your girl Narr gaining nine points since the last poll. She’s in third or second now, given the margin of error.” 

I shrugged. “Guess she’s really been kickin’ butt and takin’ names.”

## Saturday, April 15

##  **Page A10**

##  **McGinty Mistress, Child Step Forward**

#### By Katrina Fairweather

 _Brentwood_ – State Senator Don McGinty (R-Irvine), a longtime campaigner on traditional family values, faced a new hurdle to become California's next governor when a woman stepped forward Friday evening to claim a decade-long relationship with the married senator. Janice Sloan, 33, of Brentwood, introduced her child, Jason McGinty Sloan, 8, as the son of Senator McGinty, stating repeated refusals for child support had prompted her ot go public with details of the affair. McGinty and his wife, Barbara Ann, have been wed for thirty-seven years ...

## 

##  ** Tuesday, April 18, 8:18 a.m. **

I arrived at work a little late, having had to wait for Winchell’s to prepare another bear claw for me, and then hitting traffic on the Pasadena Freeway into downtown. Katrina, sitting in the cubicle nearest me, informed me that someone had just called a few minutes before, disturbing her train of thought. I thanked her for this very important knowledge, then checked my voicemail. The computer voice was cold and lifeless. Just what you want to hear early in the morning!

**You have one new message. To hear your messages, press 1.** I did so. **Sent today at 8:04 a.m.** _“Mr. Sandoval, this is Mr. X. I thought you might take me more seriously now that Senator McGinty’s campaign is failing and Miss Narr’s is rising. I will phone again at ten o’clock. I had thought you would be there, but apparently you do not start work at normal hours like the rest of us.”_ **Click.** I really hoped to meet Chicken Little (my new name for him) so I could give him a piece of my mind.

At ten o’clock, Chicken Little called back. _“Mr. Sandoval, did you get my message?”  
_

"See, here's the problem. Senator McGinty's staff is denying the accusations and they're not going anywhere. He's still the frontrunner, and despite even this, I imagine he'll remain in the low forties or high thirties in percentage of votes. How is Arnette Narr going to propel ahead of them?"

_“My guess would be by getting Congresswoman Ingraham to endorse her.”_

I laughed. “Congresswoman Ingraham is going to endorse Jerome Dawson, if anyone. She won’t endorse the star of ‘Kickin’ Butt and Takin’ Names’, or whatever the hell her last movie was called.”

_“I see you’re a fan.”_

“Just what exactly is your beef against Arnette Narr? You a jilted ex? It’d make the most sense. Who else would want so adamantly to see her fail?”

_“Anyone who really knew her would wish to see her not succeed in gaining such power, Mr. Sandoval. Perhaps you should actually be a reporter and get to know her.”_

“I will, if she becomes a legitimate candidate. But until that happens, I really am a busy man, so if you have any further proclamations that the sky is falling, go tell them to Goosey Loosey.” **Click.** Man, it felt great to hang up on him.

## Saturday, April 23  
 **Page A18**

##  **Ingraham Endorses Actress  
**

#### By Steven Sandoval

 _Sacramento_ – Almost two weeks after her withdrawal from the heated Republican gubernatorial primary, former Congresswoman Brianne Ingraham jilted the Republican political leadership by endorsing action movie actress Arnette Narr over candidates with far more political experience ...

##  ** Monday, April 24, 8:47 a.m. **

The bastard actually kept me waiting for forty-seven minutes before he called. I didn’t even glance at the caller ID screen. I knew it would be him.

_“Hello, Mr. Sandoval. It is I, Chicken Little. Are you ready to talk now?”_

##  ** 11:22 a.m.**

Chicken Little wasn’t – he was over six feet tall. He wasn’t a bad looking guy, obviously tried to keep in shape, but his overwhelming bitterness had definitely taken its toll, aging him a bit ahead of his true years. His name was Mark Rulo. And he came very prepared. I had the waiter at Hop Louie show us to a table in a private room, and Rulo began to spread documents and photographs across the table as he told his story to me. 

“So I was right, jilted ex.”

Rulo looked angry. “I wasn’t jilted. I stopped caring for Arnette after the first affair. I stuck around through two more because it was an easy life, and to increase the amount of community property I received. I was her second husband. She didn’t have her men sign prenups until the third husband. Lucky for me.”

“Walked way with quite a bit of money, did you?”

“More than enough to not have to work more than I wished to. I helped her career grow. Six months into our marriage, she was contemplating signing a contract to appear in a high-paying porno. I talked her out of it, got her started on the action hero path. She was well on her way before the marriage was finally dissolved. She had to trade me in for someone with more name recognition, she said.”

“You understand I’ll have to get corroboration for all of this. It could take some weeks.”

“You don’t have several weeks. She’ll have won the primary by then.”

## Friday, April 28  
 **Page A12**

##  **McGinty Denies Divorce Rumors  
**

#### By Katrina Fairweather

 _Irvine_ – A spokesperson for Senator Don McGinty (R-Irvine) denied several rumors and reports that his wife of thirty-seven years has moved out of their home and is seeking a divorce. Rumors of marital friction began shortly after a woman stepped forward claiming to have had a child out of wedlock with Senator McGinty...

## 

##  ** Monday, May 8, 1:11 p.m. **

Marla was shocked after I told her what Chicken Little had given me on Arnette Narr. “You can’t be serious! A member of the Ku Klux Klan!?”

“Her first husband was, among other things, a grand wizard.” 

“And what about the sleeping around?”

“She apparently took tremendous delight in breaking up the marriages of members of the crew, even a co-star in one of her movies. She kept trophies of her ‘conquests’, as Mark said she described them. I’ve already had one former personal assistant verify some of what Mark Rulo said. Once I can get enough evidence, I’ll write my story. I just don’t know if it’ll be before the primary. Somehow, I doubt it. This is a huge story, and these are serious accusations.”

“Better make sure you cross your I’s and dot your T’s, or however that goes.”

I thought about correcting her, but she’d only tell me to ‘hush up’. “Got the latest polling numbers?”

She grimaced, giving me a look. “You sure you want to see them?”

“Of course. What kind of a question is that?” She handed the report over to me and took a sip of her tea. I opened the report, and was shocked. “Are you serious? It’s only been three weeks since the last poll!”

“The whole adultery scandal has not been good for McGinty’s campaign. He is supposedly a family values candidate, after all. Last I checked, screwing a woman other than your wife wasn’t exactly one of the Ten Commandments. Then there’s the refusal to pay child support -- that’s just despicable.”

“McGinty’s only at thirty percent in the latest poll? That’s down twelve points!” I pointed at another line in the data. “And Arnette Narr has jumped another ten points to twenty-six percent!”

Marla nodded. “Rice dropped a couple, Dawson picked up a couple, but the number of undecided voters went up significantly. There’s more than enough there for Narr to pick up a win.” She gave me a look. “You’d better hurry up and print your hatchet job before she becomes too popular to derail.”

“It’s not a hatchet job, damn it. It’s the truth! Good, solid journalism! The editors want corroboration from at least two sources for every allegation before it goes to print. I’ll have that and more.”

## 

##  ** Wednesday, May 10, 9:02 a.m. **

Katrina Fairweather poked her head around the corner of my cubicle. “Got a few minutes?”

I was always skeptical whenever Katrina actually wanted to initiate a conversation; usually it meant she wanted something, or just wanted to gloat. But once in a while she’d happen to say something relevant while bragging about herself, and she _had_ been covering the McGinty scandal. “I suppose so. What’s up?”

“Janice Sloan is having another news conference this Friday. According to the press release, she has results of a paternity test, and will have a ‘special guest’ speak at the conference, supposedly someone very close to Senator McGinty’s campaign. I thought you might like to know, since this could very well be the thing that knocks McGinty out of the race and catapults Arnette Narr to the front of the pack.”

I looked at Katrina. “You interviewed Narr. What was your impression of the woman?”

Katrina shrugged. “She’s a rather stupid individual, if you ask me. She’s a marvelous actress, though. She reads whatever she’s given well, and she does a good job of memorizing the talking points her staff must give her every day.” She looked at me. “These days, that makes you a good politician.”

## Friday, May 12  
 **Page A1**

##  **Mistress, Wife Hold Joint Press Conference  
**

#### By Katrina Fairweather

 _Irvine_ –In a surprising news conference, the wife of Senator Don McGinty (R-Irvine) joined his purported mistress and blasted the senator for committing adultery and neglecting the needs of a child created from that relationship. Janice Sloan has claimed a decade-long relationship with the senator. she was joined by Barbara Ann McGinty, the senator's wife, in releasing a DNA test which they said proved Senator McGinty was the father of Jason McGinty Sloan, 8. Barbara Ann McGinty also acknowledged she was seeking a divorce and had retained famed attorney ...

##  ** Saturday, May 20, 3:36 p.m. **

_“I’m sorry, but we still have no comment. Mr. Grove has no statement about his ex-wife Arnette Narr, and he is very busy working on his current project.”_ I hung up the phone, swearing quietly to myself. Leading man and heartthrob Jack Grove was one of the two missing pieces of the puzzle, and so far he and Arnette Narr’s first husband the KKK Grand Wizard had been no help. Neither had any comment.

Marla’s assistant came by my desk and gingerly placed the latest poll results on my desk. I looked up at him. “Any good news, Bobby Dean?”

He looked down at his Birkenstock sandals, brushing his long brown hair out of his face. “I dunno. Good news if you want Arnette Narr to win, I guess. Bad news if you don’t.” He continued on his way, making other deliveries. I opened the report and read over the findings. McGinty’s numbers had plummeted since the one-two punch from his mistress and his wife. Even the California Republican Party had pulled its endorsement of him. He was now running only 9%. Arnette Narr was now the frontrunner with 34% of the vote. LeeAnn Rice was now at 22%, Jerome Dawson 18%, and a whopping 21% were undecided or going to lesser candidates. There was still hope, but it seemed faint. If I was going to have any impact, I needed to release my story ASAP.

##  ** 4:10 p.m. **

“Absolutely not, Steven. With only one man acknowledging that Narr broke up his marriage for sport, and without the first husband corroborating what this Rulo has to say, the story is too weak. Primaries are almost here. It’d look like we were trying to alter the election results.” My editor shook her head. “We’re going to have to bury this one until after the primary. Hopefully, Narr won’t win.”

“And if she does?”

“We’ll reconsider running it.”

##  ** June 10, 7:19 p.m.  
Election Tuesday  
**

The phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID screen. GOLDEN, M. I picked up. “Sandoval.”

_“You twit, I know who this is. I did call you, after all.”_

“I’m guessing today you weren’t able to smoke all eight of your cigarettes.”

_“I get a little crabby when I can’t get past cigarette number three, okay? So did you hear the results yet?”_

I leaned back in my chair. “Results? I’m sorry, I thought the polls were still open until eight p.m.”

_“We’re sophisticated nowadays. Through exit polling, we’re able to determine and project a winner.”_

“Does the headline ‘Dewey Defeats Truman’ mean anything to you about the folly of your ways?”

_“Oh, hush up. Do you want to hear the results or not? Of course you do. In a surprise win, it’s Arnette Narr by four percentage points. The superhero ekes one out.”_

I sat forward, incredulous. “What? What about Dawson?”

_“Narr garnered thirty-three percent of the vote, Dawson twenty-nine percent, and Rice twenty percent. The rest went to minor candidates. Oddly enough, McGinty still got four percent of the vote.”_

I was stunned. “Arnette Narr? She can’t win!”

_“Look at it this way, buttercup. Your story about her is really going to raise some eyebrows now.”_

##  **Friday, June 13, 9:55 a.m. **

The phone rang, caller ID indicating. PUBLIC. Just in case it was someone important, I picked up. 

_“Mr. Sandoval … this is Scott Chandler. I believe you’ve been trying to contact me through some associates of mine.”_ Scott Chandler, the KKK guy. Arnette Narr’s first ex. I sat up excitedly.

“Yes, Mr. Chandler, I have been.”

 _“Now, let’s get something straight. Normally, I wouldn’t waste my time with someone like you. I don’t entrust non-Aryans to write about me in a fair light.”_ I rolled my eyes, but didn’t interrupt. _“However, Arnette Narr is a betrayer and a harlot, and I will enjoy immensely watching her take a fall and lose this election.”_

I frowned as I set up a meeting with Chandler. Not just because meeting a man happy to be a racist was a distasteful prospect, but I was starting to feel like that liberal county supervisor I saw at the Plum Tree Inn, making a deal with the devil. In her case, I supposed it was for the greater good. Was that true here?

## Sunday, June 29  
 **Page A1**

##  **Glamour Lives Up Campaign Trail  
**

#### By Katrina Fairweather

 _Hollywood_ – Normally, turnout for a non-televised gubernatorial debate is limited to a few hundred viewers. But when you add an actress known for her action hero roles, if you’re the director of said debate, you suddenly find yourself needing over two thousand more seats. Debate directors scrambled to secure the Kodak Theater as a venue for the Driscoll-Narr gubernatorial debate last night when almost twenty-five hundred people asked for tickets to the event. Narr didn’t disappoint, waving to fans as she stepped on stage and sending a couple of well-placed karate kicks out towards the audience, which were met with excited cheers...

##  **Friday, July 13, 10:03 a.m. **

**You have one new message. To hear your messages, press 1.** **Sent today at 9:27 a.m.** _“Mr. Sandoval, this is Colette Wingate calling on behalf of Jack Grove. Mr. Grove has decided to grant you a brief interview as long as you agree to stop calling him further about this matter. Please meet us at the Gower studios at 2 p.m. tomorrow. Call us if you are unable to attend.”_

##  **Friday, July 13, 2:04 p.m. **

“I’ll speak to you, but this has to all be off the record.”

I was sitting in Jack Grove’s trailer on the set of his latest project. I leaned forward and smiled. “Mr. Grove, I’m sure you understand if it’s off the record, I cannot use any of this information you’ve given me. And unless I can find someone else to corroborate it, I’ll still be unable to print my article.”

Grove lounged in his director’s chair, dangling one flip-flop on a couple of his toes, as he scratched his head. He was dressed in a pair of board shorts and had pulled on a tank top – I seem to recall the film was supposed to take place in Hawaii. Some surfing movie. “I think you’ll understand why when I say what I have to say.” He fidgeted a bit. I could tell he was nervous, but about what? Talking to me? He started to speak again after a long silence. “Arnette Narr … I never had sex with her.”

I frowned, pulling out my handy notepad. “Really? I thought she’d used your indiscretion to help destroy your marriage to … your publicist at the time, name of …”

“Myra Frost. Yes, she tried. That isn’t why the marriage ended. Myra and I weren’t compatible. And I’d really appreciate you not asking her any questions about this.”

“I’m sorry, but she’s probably going to have to be the one to corroborate any of what you’re saying, since you don’t want to go on record.” I looked at him. “Why don’t you want me to speak with her?”

“Because she and I didn’t divorce amicably, and she’s been very kind to keep quiet this long, for which I’ve made sure to help keep her living comfortably. But she’s very successful now, and remarried. She’s not needed help for some time. I’m not sure how much longer she’ll be willing to keep my secret.”

“So your plan is to tell me so that I won’t have to talk to her?” I shook my head. “I don’t understand.”

“No, for it to work, you have to leave me and Myra out of this. She’s remarried, she doesn’t need to get dragged back into any of this.” He looked at me, his eyes soulful. “I haven’t ever told a reporter this.”

“Then why are you about to tell me now? What’s caused the change?”

“I know you’re serious about writing this article. It’s going to come out one way or the other.”

And then he told me his secret.

##  **Wednesday, July 18, 10:03 a.m. **

“No way!”

“Shh, Marla! Keep it down! Remember, you swore not to say anything if I told you!” I looked around, making sure no one was eavesdropping. We were at Plum Tree Inn again. I’d managed to convince the waiters that I’d prevent Marla from “smoking” again.

“Damn, I can’t tell anyone this juicy gossip, and I can’t wave my unlit cigs at anyone. You’re no fun.” She leaned forward. “So you’re telling me that Jack Grove, movie hunk extraordinaire, is gay.”

I nodded once. “That’s what he told me. Hence why he and his wife weren’t ‘compatible’. That’s the real reason they go a divorce. Not because Arnette Narr claimed to have had him in her bed.”

“But Mrs. Grove must have known Narr was lying! Why wouldn’t she or her husband deny the charge? I seem to recall Grove simply having ‘no comment’ on it, it made us all assume it was true.”

“What would either of them have given as a reason? Jack Grove would never have slept with Ms. Narr because he doesn’t swing that way? Not a smart move when your career is built upon being every woman’s idea of a romantic hunk.”

Marla looked shocked. “Wow, that’s evil. Narr must have found out he was gay somehow … and used that as blackmail against him, so that he wouldn’t argue with her when she made her claim.” She looked at me. “That’s one cold woman. You’ve got to print the story now.”

“How can I? I talked to Lydia Sangiacomo, you know, the movie reporter?”

“My god! Steven, you didn’t tell her, did you? She’s the biggest gossip alive! Everyone will know –“

“Calm down. I didn’t tell her anything. I just asked her what she could tell me about Jack Grove. The woman’s a walking repository of information about movie stars.”

“And what did she have to say?”

“By all accounts, Jack Grove is one of the nicest people in Hollywood. He is kind and generous to all of his co-stars, famous for his almost chivalric behavior towards women, and donates heavily to charities – far more than better-paid celebrities, in fact. By all accounts, he’s a genuine individual.”

“Plus he’s a hunk. Well, you can still have him, I guess, Steven, even if I can’t.”

I gave her a look. “Thanks a lot.”

“So you’re reluctant to write this article now, because it could destroy a closeted movie star’s life?”

I shook my head. “Not just that. Look who I’m in league with. A member of the KKK, and a bitter ex. Now, I could out a gay man with the help of HIS bitter ex. All to take down a gubernatorial contender.”

“Who sounds like a pretty evil woman herself, don’t forget.”

“True. But this isn’t why I got into journalism. Not to ally with evil people to attack another evil person, and to harm an innocent person in the process.” I looked up at her. “I’m going to go talk to my editor.”

“What are you going to say?”

“That I think we should bury this article.”

“But Steven! You’ve done so much work, and it’s a good story! It’s one that should be told!”

“Then someone else can tell it. Mark Rulo can approach someone else. So can Scott Chandler. Someone else can do the legwork, interview Arnette Narr, and blow the lid off Jack Grove’s secret. If the story is that good, it won’t be that hard for someone else to dig up.”

##  ** November 14, 10:50 p.m.  
Election Tuesday **

My editors weren’t happy with losing the article, but they didn’t push it. I went back to covering the heated campaign between Driscoll and Narr. Narr showed her inexperience in politics, making a couple of serious flubs. She turned off some minority voters, and scored big with women. Driscoll capitalized on her errors and stressed his political experience, but he was less charismatic, and could not charm audiences like she could. The race stayed even and heated, all the way until the election.

I went to a local bar and waited for Marla to join me. She said things would be more hectic at the paper tonight; the race was close and they were increasing the number of exit poll recipients to get a better feel as to the result. I finished off my beer and looked over to see her sit down next to me.

She held up an envelope. “I’ve got our results right here. The networks should be calling the election in a few minutes.” She looked at me. “Do you want to me to tell you, or do you want to wait?”

“There’s only one way this can end. Arlene Narr, Governor of the great state of California.”

She smiled, shaking her head. “Teague Driscoll, by seven points. People seem to have been turned off by Narr’s inexperience, despite her continual claims to be a governmental outsider ready to ‘kick butt’.” She patted me on the shoulder. “So you didn’t need the article after all. How do you feel?”

I smiled at her. “The same way I would have felt even if she had won. Glad I did what was right.”

Marla leaned in and whispered to me, “I have something to tell you, strictly off the record.”

I nodded, playing along. “Off the record. Go ahead.” 

“This is the first time I’ve ever voted against the Republican candidate. God, I need a drink.”


End file.
